


Needs Must

by junko



Series: Written in the Scars (of Our Hearts) [30]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Original Character(s), POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji's brother Seichi is given work on the Kuchiki estate and accidentally learns the full extent of Renji's relationship with Byakuya.  Meanwhile, at the shoten, Renji wakes up restless and dreaming of Inuzuri.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needs Must

Seichi followed the Kuchiki house steward obediently, though he listened with only half-an ear to all the instructions about ‘behavior expected of retainers.’ 

He couldn’t get over it. Seichi had another man’s name over his heart, marking his body. There, sewn into dark cotton fabric was some ancient family crest, like a stamp of ownership, property.

Still, it wasn’t that much different than a prison uniform, he supposed. Almost exactly like, he thought when Eishirō introduced him to some ancient gardener and handed him a shovel. “Of course I can dig,” he assured them, “Had lots of practice hauling rocks.”

“What’s your name again?” the gardener asked.

“Abarai,” he said, “Seichi Abarai.”

The gardener looked at Eishirō curiously. “Like the lieutenant? The captain’s young man?”

The captain’s what? Seichi glanced at Eishirō, looking for confirmation, as well. Eishirō blushed, and stammered, “Yes, well, er… Seichi is Renji’s brother.”

The gardener clapped a rough, calloused hand on Seichi’s shoulder. Leaning in he winked and chuckled, “Well, well! Don’t be thinking just because your brother is the captain’s lover it will win any favors with me!” 

“Uh,” Seichi muttered, “Wouldn’t dream of it, I guess.”

Eishirō seemed to be watching Seichi nervously, no doubt afraid of his reaction to this news. Seichi wanted to be shocked, even hurt, but… instead, he felt sort of emptied out. 

Truth was, he’d heard such impossible things about Renji. Out in the Rukongai, Renji was some kind of miracle, a folk hero, almost a legend. A kid from Inuzuri who actually made something of himself? Not just a shinigami, but a goddamn lieutenant? It was unheard of, because: Inu-fucking-zuri. Everyone knew how hard that was, how insane it was to even get out of that place alive. 

So of course, there were rumors, too. Questions, speculations, all the sorts of things jealous people assumed—how many people you suppose he had to sleep with to get that gig? How many asses did he have to kiss?

Well, at least one, it seemed.

Not shocking, really. Just… disappointing.

Still, Seichi could understand it. The need to survive had demanded that Seichi bend over, take it up the ass. It’s what you had to do sometimes. No shame in it, not really, not if it got you what you needed at the end of the day.

In a way, it was comforting to know that Renji hadn’t changed that much. It was weird being the brother of some hero. Have to endure all the awe when someone heard Seichi’s surname. It’d always made Seichi feel in adequate. But, now, well, Renji was the same as Seichi, wasn’t he? Albeit in a different world, for higher stakes, maybe.

Made Seichi hate that blue-blooded noble prick just a little bit more, though. 

And a world that forced the low lower themselves more just to keep ends meeting.

If there was justice, Renji wouldn’t have to be some rich man’s plaything. But Seichi could imagine these Seireitei dicks probably never let Renji forget where he came from. Just like no one had let him forget it in prison. Maybe with the Kuchiki crest stamped on Renji’s ass, doors opened.

Yeah, good for him.

At least the captain was handsome. It wouldn’t be no hardship. At least Renji’s leash was diamond studded gold. Stray dog to lap dog. Could be worse. Could be a whole hell of a lot worse.

Seichi knew that all too well.

He was vaguely aware of the order from the old gardener to fetch sacks of manure from the stables. He trudged behind Eishirō lost in his own thoughts. 

“Are you all right, Abarai-san?” Eishirō asked when they’d come to the stables.

-San. Heh. Seichi could get used to that. “Yeah,” he said, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eishirō looked uncomfortable, like maybe he was ashamed of his master’s behavior. But, he didn’t seem able to spit it out beyond an awkward, “I see. I guess all is well…?”

Huh, Seichi hoped that didn’t mean things were worse for Renji than he’d already imagined. Well, Renji was tough. He knew what prices he could pay and what he couldn’t.

“Yeah,” Seichi reassured the guy. They were standing on a low hill, having met the gardener in a cherry orchard. Below them, the expanse of the estate’s grounds laid out in the setting sun. The autumn’s grasses shimmered like fields of gold around a silvery lake. There was no denying the beauty of this place. “It’s all the same, though, underneath, isn’t it?” Seichi mused, “Here or there, it’s still shit and dirt.”

Eishirō frowned at Seichi’s attempt at philosophy. “We prefer to call it manure.”

Seichi laughed. “I bet you do.”

#

 

Renji dreamed of Inuzuri. Spending so much time with Ichigo’s family must have triggered thoughts of his own. 

Dream images already fragmented and faded from his mind, but Renji’s heart continued to hammer away in his chest. He gripped the sheets, shaking off the phantom feeling of running, running from shinigami… or maybe yakuza. But, in the way of dreams, Renji couldn’t remember if he’d been pursuer or pursed. All he was left with was the feeling of loss. Being forced to leave people behind. Having to choose to abandon one in order to save many.

Man, he was the shittiest onii-chan ever.

Deep inside, Renji felt Zabimaru give him a little hug and a comforting hiss.

Running his fingers through his hair, Renji shook the emotional cobwebs from his brain. He pulled himself up off the floor with a grunt and made his way to the shower. Somehow, he’d managed to wake up before most of the rest of the shōten. The halls were dark and eerily quiet. Somewhere outside a train whistle blew and rattled on its tracks.

For once, Renji had all the hot water he could use. He took the time to scrub away the sensation of Inuzuri’s filth from his body. He washed his hair, borrowing a daub of conditioner that smelled like it probably belonged to Urahara. 

He wrapped himself in a towel. The mirror’s reflection showed a hulking man with a tangle of blood red hair and a body marked by battle and ink. It was a long, hard road that those scars showed—the ink, too.

Trying not to glare back at the image in the mirror, he set to combing his hair and taking care of other toiletries. A pounding on the door almost had Renji shaving off the sideburn he was trying to trim. “Hang on!” he shouted back. “Give me another minute, would you?!”

Finishing up, Renji flung the door open, ready to glare down at Jinta or Ururu. Instead, he looked up at Tessai. Tessai was dressed in a just-a-touch too short and too tight flowered yukata. He grabbed Renji’s shoulders and sniffed the top of his head. Letting Renji go just as abruptly as he’d grabbed him, Tessai smiled. “Good choice,” Tessai said. “But mine is better for thick hair.”

Renji wasn’t sure if he’d just been admonished for stealing the conditioner or offered advice. He decided to go with the latter, “Uh, thanks…?”

“I’ll leave it out for you tomorrow,” Tessai said with a serious nod. They stared at each other awkwardly for another few moments before Tessai arched an eyebrow and hooked his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “First person up makes breakfast. It’s in the handbook.”

“Oh, right,” Renji said. “I’d better get on that.”

Renji knew how to cook exactly three things: rice, which was made easier by the existence of a Hello Kitty steamer, fish, and a simple soup. So, it was shaping up into a slightly more traditional breakfast than the shōten was used to. Still, if he could find some pickles in the fridge that weren’t sentient, Renji felt pretty good about his first offering.

When Urahara came in, however, he seemed slightly taken aback to find Renji in nothing but a towel in front of the stove. “Oh, Lieutenant Abarai,” he said, fumbling at the coffee maker until it started making happy percolating noises. “You must have been up early…” then he smiled slyly, “…or come in late.”

Renji waved that thought away with a shudder. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Taicho. Ichigo is fifteen. I got myself a grown man. And, anyway… what, you think I’m going to do the kid in his father’s house? Seems like bad form. Don’t want to start no Shiba blood feud, if you know what I’m saying?”

There was so much clattering with the mugs, Renji had to glance over his shoulder to make sure Urahara was alright. Urahara juggled a cup that seemed determined to fall to the floor, but his obvious hakuda skills kept it from doing so.

“You okay there, Taicho?”

“Please stop calling me captain, Lieutenant,” Urahara said with a sigh, as he carefully set the cup down on the counter. “It was a long time ago, and, frankly, I wasn’t very good at the job. I’d rather have the honorific ‘shopkeeper.’”

Renji nodded, but he had to bite back the retort that he didn’t think Urahara was a very good shopkeeper either. Renji’d been staying at the shōten for over a week and they hadn’t had a single regular customer once.

Urahara stood by the coffeemaker and watched Renji cook. He was dressed in his green gi pants, but over his shoulders he’d draped a fluffy pink robe that Renji would have sworn he saw Tessai in the other day. Urahara’s blond mop was a bed-headed mess, and his face was in even more in need of a shave than usual.

“I take you met Kurosaki senior?” Urahara said at last.

“Yep,” Renji said, flipping the fish. He stepped back, careful not to grease spatter his naked chest. “Nice guy, if a little goofy.”

“Well, aren’t we all,” Urahara said, pulling the pot out before it had finished brewing to pour a quick cup. The coffeemaker spat and hissed as though irritated by the interruption. “Did you interact much while you were in the Eleventh?”

“Me and Shiba? Nah, but I’ve been friends with his former lieutenant, Matsumoto, a long time,” Renji said. “We accidentally dated once or twice.”

“Accidentally? How does one accidentally date?”

Renji chuckled. Judging the fish done, he brought it over to the table. “She decided we were and so I ended up paying for lunch and hauling her stuff around for her. That kind of thing.”

“Ah,” Urahara said, sipping his coffee. Eyeing the fish from behind his mug, Urahara said, “Such a traditional feast! My family will hardly know what to do with it.”

Renji tugged at the towel, pulling it up over his hips and frowned at the table, “Yeah, you know, I don’t really know how to make much else. I got kind of ‘stone soup’ going, too, you know with odd bits and that, like I might’ve made back… well, sorry it isn’t fancier.”

“No need to apologize! It looks lovely,” Urahara said. He smiled out from behind his cup, “Though it may shock the children.”

Sure enough, when Jinta came in he took one look at the fish on the table and gave Renji a very hard look. “You need to sleep in.”

Ururu nodded morosely. Breakfast seemed to depress her, though Renji thought she kind of always looked like everything depressed her.

Tessai, however, seemed to appreciate it. He had taken the time to get dressed and, if Renji was any judge, had also refreshed the braids in his hair somehow. 

Urahara said some words over the food and they all dug in. 

Renji had taken no more than a few bites when something materialized in front of his face. It started as a spark. It danced crookedly through the air, spreading into the shape of a dark, ashen rectangle. Slowly, the ash became paper. Once it was fully formed, the paper drifted slowly toward his plate. Renji caught it. Turning it over, he saw the Kuchiki seal.

At his surprised look, Urahara said, “Oh, I’m glad to see things are functioning properly! I tweaked the spirit mail. Your letters should come direct now—or, at least whenever you’re in the shōten.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Renji said. He really wanted to read it right away, so he held it up, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead. I’m sure we’d all like to know how things are going at Kuchiki manor,” Urahara said.

Right, so read it out loud, Renji guessed. He used his silverware to break the seal, and then read, “Dearest Renji,” he cleared his throat, surprised by how embarrassed he was by such a little term of endearment. “ ‘There’s so much to tell you, I’m not sure where to begin. I suppose I should first reassure you that Rukia and Ms. Inoue have arrived safely and are deep in training at the Thirteenth. Ms. Inoue demonstrated her powers last night during a violent storm, and, though it’s rather rude of me, I must say I’m deeply curious to know exactly what kind of human she is, or if she’s even human at all. Rukia tells me that Urahara forbade Ms. Inoue to fight. That also strikes me as odd. It leads me to suspect, in fact, that she’s something quite precious.’ ”

Renji glanced up at everyone around the kitchen table. They were all doing a piss-poor imitation of innocence. Yeah, they knew something about Orihime they weren’t telling.

Going back to the letter, Renji scanned the words, “ “Okay, let’s see. Where was I?” He found his spot and began again, “’Secondly, I received a visit from my spy from the Rukongai. He tells me there is to be a raid on one of my supply trains. I hope to intercept the bandits and learn who is behind the attacks on our people. I have convinced your brother to help.’” Renji stopped and interrupted himself, “What? How the fuck did he do that?” Renji looked up again at the wide eyes of everyone, and said to the kids, “Pardon the French, but this is insane!” Renji jabbed his finger at the paper.

“Perhaps he explains?” Urahara suggested.

Renji returned to the letter again. “Okay, he says this: ‘In exchange for his freedom, Seichi has agreed to help speculate the possible method of attack.’” Renji pulled his hair away from his face, “Good plan,” he muttered, “Except my brother’s a moron.”

“Though perhaps well versed in supply train attacks?” Urahara offered. “What was your brother arrested for?”

“The first time or the second?” Renji set the unfinished letter down with a sigh and thought about it. “Yeah, you know, you might be right. Seichi did spend two hundred years in one form of prison or another. He probably knows all the guys who know all the tricks. I guess he might be useful, after all. Still, I’m surprised Byakuya could talk him into it. Last time I spoke to Seichi, he didn’t have much nice to say about shinigami.”

“Freedom is a big temptation,” Urahara noted. 

Tessai nodded solemnly.

Renji couldn’t argue with that. He went back to the letter. “ ‘Lastly, I made the mistake of attempting to discuss our situation regarding the purification rite with Captain Kurotsuchi. He may just be attempting to frighten us into to complying, but he claims that readings show that there is an effect on me. I suppose something must be done, after all. However, the idea of that madman being any part of it is unacceptable. Urahara is difficult and tricky, but I fear he may be our only hope.’ ” Renji glanced up at Urahara, “I’m sure he meant ‘difficult’ in the nice way.”

Urahara chuckled a little. “I’m sure.”

Renji glanced back at the letter. He read:

> We must find an alternate solution. I can’t bear the thought of hurting you, my love. You’re in my thoughts constantly. My hand reaches for you in the empty bed. Your smell is fading from the pillow, and I wish I had more than your robe to wrap around me at night.

When everyone looked at him expectantly, Renji just shook his head. “The rest is just mushy stuff.”

“Yeah, you can skip that,” Jinta said around a mouthful of rice and pickles. Renji nodded, but he was already reading the rest:

> A captain can’t wish his soldier too soon returned from duty, but I am torn by a desire to have you back at my side, where I feel you best belong. I find I miss your companionship, your insights, and, quite honestly, your lieutenancy. The Fourth Seat tries very hard, but no one can replace you.

> Especially not in my heart.

> Yours,  
>  Byakuya

And he’d drawn another one of his smudgy hearts. Renji could feel his face glowing and he had to suppress the desire to press the letter to his own heart. Wow, Byakuya must’ve been feeling really romantic or something. Whatever it was, Renji liked it.

Still, there was a lot going on at home. Seichi running free. Mayuri terrorizing Byakuya. It sounded like a mess, and did nothing to settle the sense of unease Renji had woken up with.

Pushing his chair back, Renji stood up and announced, “I’m going to get dressed. If Chad comes, tell him I’m already training.”


End file.
